


candy hearts

by fiverivers



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Universe, F/M, John Murphy (The 100) Being an Asshole, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Mutually Unrequited, post 6x03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 02:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18907228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiverivers/pseuds/fiverivers
Summary: Clarke grabs dessert for Bellamy. It's an epiphany she's not quite ready for.-She unfurls the napkin in her hand, revealing a small, green dessert. Her heart beats, unsteady, in her chest. She’d taken a few at dinner, tucking them into a napkin, thinking nothing of it. She’d wanted to share them with her family.The realization had come later, when Abby had turned them down and Madi had scarfed two down and she’d stopped her, instinctively, from wolfing down the last. “It’s for—” Clarke hadn’t finished, but Madi had smirked knowingly, rewrapped it in the napkin and handed it back to Clarke before bouncing off to bed.Now, the little pastry feels like it means something—something big and unknown. Something that leaves Clarke exposed and vulnerable to hurt and rejection.





	candy hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Idiots in love.

“How was the Royal Feast, your Highness?” Clarke gives Murphy a pointed look, “it wasn’t funny the first time and surprisingly it’s not funny the tenth either.”

“I meant no offense, your Grace.” He gives her an exaggerated bow, bending almost in half.

“I hope you pull a stitch,” she deadpans and Murphy grins at that throwing his hands up in mock surrender.

“What you got there?” Murphy motions towards the crinkled up napkin in her hand with his tumbler of scotch.

Clarke feels her cheeks warming, and she attempts, discreetly, to hide her hands behind her back. “You should be resting not drinking." 

Murphy raises an eyebrow at her very obvious redirect but doesn’t push further. “Is that an order?”

“No,” Clarke replies, “it’s my professional medical opinion. I’m sure you and I will have a _great_ time tomorrow, disinfecting and re-stitching all your wounds.” She smiles, all teeth and Murphy grins wide again.

He staggers up, his injuries and the booze knocking him off balance. “You’re more fun than I remember.” He steps by her, clapping her on the back. “Bellamy’s on the balcony.”

“I wasn’t—“ She turns her head automatically to the left and sees Bellamy.

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, Clarke.” Murphy says something else that she doesn’t quite catch, her heartbeat is loud in her ears, muffling his voice. Her eyes focus on Bellamy out on the terrace. After six years (one hundred and thirty one, really) seeing him is still a shock to her system that takes much longer than it should for her to overcome. “Good night, Murphy.” She says absently when he walks away.

She downs Murphy’s leftover scotch.  Clarke watches Bellamy on the balcony through the open door for another moment. She unfurls the napkin in her hand, revealing a small, green dessert. Her heart beats, unsteady, in her chest. She’d taken a few at dinner, tucking them into a napkin, thinking nothing of it. She’d wanted to share them with her family.

The realization had come later, when Abby had turned them down and Madi had scarfed two down and she’d stopped her, instinctively, from wolfing down the last. “It’s for—” Clarke hadn’t finished, but Madi had smirked knowingly, rewrapped it in the napkin and handed it back to Clarke before bouncing off to bed.

Now, the little pastry feels like it means something—something big and unknown. Something that leaves Clarke exposed and vulnerable to hurt and rejection.

“It’s just a freakin’ pastry,” she insists under her breath, wrapping it again. She takes a deep breath before joining him to stare at the planet in the sky, leaning on the railing next to him, the napkin clutched tight in her hand.

“What did they say?” He asks. The dinner had gone for longer than Clarke had said it would. He had expected her back hours ago. Echo had done her best to put him at ease but it hadn’t worked. He’s been on edge since she left for dinner, and the longer it took for her to come back, the more his anxiety grew and when the suns had gone down, he’d been ready to, quite literally, storm the castle. When he’d heard her and Murphy snarking at each other, relief had washed over him in waves. It took everything in him not to immediately confront her, to rush to her and see her whole and safe. 

“A lot.” She replies vaguely. “They asked if there were any more _royals_ in cryosleep.” 

Bellamy snorts. “How does it feel to officially be a princess?” He teases; he glances away from the stars and gives her a half-smile.

Clarke looks away, her heart leaping into her throat. “Don’t start.” She warns, playfully.

They lapse into a comfortable silence. She knows Bellamy has more questions. He’s tense and she’s itching to reach out and reassure him but it doesn’t feel like her place.

“What do they want with you?” Bellamy asks softly after a few more moments pass, his grip tightening on the banister.

“I don’t know.” She says honestly. “They’ve changed their demeanor completely since finding out I’m a nightblood. Russell always seemed amenable but his wife, Simone, it’s like she’s a different person.” Clarke shakes her head. “She _hugged_ me. Yesterday she was ready to throw us out and ‘let the trees have us,’ whatever the hell that means.”

Bellamy rubs his jaw. “I don’t like it, Clarke.” He doesn’t know what else to say, what he can say. _I think they want to hurt you._

“We don’t really have a choice here, Bellamy. We’ll die out there with the corpse-decapitating grounders.”

He laughs, full, loud, and sudden. “It feels lazy to call them grounders.”

Clarke laughs too, like their time on Earth is a happy memory. “Russell called them Children of Gabriel.”

“I heard the guards call them that too.” He turns, leans his back against the railing and crosses his arms over his chest. “We can’t trust them, Clarke. If they want to see you again, I’m going with you.”

She opens her mouth to argue, to dissuade him, but he’s hard as steel, staring at her, daring her to fight him on this. “I just want you to be safe.”

“ _We_ will be. Together.” He promises, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Together.” She agrees, almost soundlessly. She clears her throat. “They want to see us tomorrow morning.”

Bellamy nods. “Okay. Tomorrow, then.” He uncrosses his arms and smiles at her again. He’s moving to leave when Clarke grabs his hand and drops it just as quickly, pulling back like he burned her.

“Sorry, I, um.” Again, she reaches for his hand, slower this time, taking a minute to work up the nerve. Gently, deliberately, she opens his curled fingers fully, and when his hand is flat, she lingers, tracing a scar on his wrist, before giving him the dessert, putting the crumpled napkin in the palm of his hand. It’s stupid, but she feels like she’s giving him something more meaningful, some fragment of her soul. She wonders if he knows.

“Your trash, Clarke? Seriously? You really are taking this whole princess thing seriously.”

Clarke laughs, her nerves evaporating straightaway. He has that effect on her. “No, jackass.” She uncovers the pastry. It’s crushed and broken into pieces. Her nerves are back and she’s self-conscious, mortified all of a sudden. It does look like garbage. She’s tempted to slap it out of his hands and run away. Who would ever want something so damaged?

“This is for you.” She says awkwardly. He hears her distantly. His chest feels warm, and her fingers leave a searing trail where touched him. It’s a feeling he’s familiar with, one he was sure he buried a long time ago.

Bellamy looks up at Clarke, searches her face. She looks embarrassed. He can’t figure out why but seeing her upset always makes his heart ache. He catches her hand before she can pull away entirely. “Thank you, Clarke.” He rubs his thumb across her knuckles and lets go, popping a piece in his mouth. 

“Holy shit.” Bellamy groans. “That’s really good.” He reaches for another piece.

Clarke laughs again, her doubts and anxieties mostly washing away. Seeing him, being with him, talking to him always soothes her. “That’s what I said. My mom didn’t want one, her loss,” Clarke babbles, still a bit anxious, “Madi ate two. I don’t even think she bothered to chew.”

“Hopefully the Primes don’t banish us for your thievery.” Her words register slowly. The crumbled dessert holds a more profound significance when he does the math, when he jumps to a conclusion he probably shouldn't. His heart misses a beat.

“It was worth the risk,” she teases back. Bellamy takes in a mouthful of air, overwhelmed when his mind repeats back to him: _you’re worth the risk._

Bellamy eats another piece, this bite sweeter than the last. He leaves the biggest piece and offers it back to her. When she shakes her head, no, he persists: “what’s mine is yours.”

He keeps his tone light, positive he’s reading too much into it, but it still feels good to say it out loud, to tell Clarke.

She takes it gingerly and looks up at him with big, bright eyes. He scratches the back of neck, looks away, reality hitting hard and fast. He thinks of Echo asleep in their bed and feels fickle and cruel. It isn’t fair to her or Clarke, to himself, or to their people to let his imagination run wild—to fall back into old patterns that leave him making reckless decisions.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Clarke.” He folds the napkin delicately, presses it into his pocket.

“Goodnight, Bellamy.” She gazes up at the stars for a while longer after he’s gone, tries not to think about what she really wants when they’re finally, _finally_ at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly just wanted to write something cute and fluffy but apparently I don’t know how to not be a melodramatic asshole.
> 
> This is based off the scene when Clarke was eating with the Lightbournes because GOD was that ever cute.
> 
> Also two fics in a week? I am on the hottest streak of my life *finger guns*
> 
> ADDITIONAL NOTE: Just watched 6x04 and PHEW does this fit. I love true love y'all.


End file.
